Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2011
I found a black jacket this morning.
I put it on like i was mourning.
Then i learnt that nobody could see me.
People just left me be.

I walked through doors feeling free from being stared at.
Wherever whenever i ran, walked or sat.
They could not even hear me when i called them names.
This world is mine, i claimed.

Then i saw a man walking towards me in a rush.
He looked so horrible and smelt like trash.
He opened his mouth and spoke a language i did not know.
But i understood every word he said very slow.

*It is not the jacket.
You are invinsible indeed.
But it is not the jacket.
It is not even a jacket like you think it is.
It is a black tuxedo.
You are dead now.
They are going to bury you.
That is why they put it on you.
You are dead.
Indeed you are.
Satan
Written by
Satan
891
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems